Bully
by theotherasian
Summary: Transcript of Arthur Kirkland's My Story. [Arthur Kirkland. Age 18. Popular. Smart. Athletic. And A Bully. Why? An astonishing narrative about what it means to fit in and be popular.] My Story programs are sponsored by the Stop Bullying Now Foundation. {{Pairings are debatable, up to interpretation. More information inside}}
1. PART I

Title: Bully  
Summary: Transcript of Arthur Kirkland's My Story. [Arthur Kirkland. Age 18. Popular. Smart. Athletic. And A Bully. Why? An astonishing narrative about what it means to fit in and be popular.] My Story programs are sponsored by the Stop Bullying Now Foundation.  
Pairings: Debatable pairings involving Arthur. Probably only hints of USUK and FRUK but there should be enough hints for shipping goggles to pick up on. Antonio, Arthur, Francis, and Gilbert will all go out with numerous girls throughout the course of the fic.  
Warnings: Anti-gay comments, crude language, anti-Islamic comments, sexism, the works (I do not in any way condone any of the behavior in the story. Cussing will be probably kept to a minimum, just enough to seem at least somewhat realistic) Oh yeah, and Arthur doesn't speak with a British accent (He lives in the US and has for a long time)  
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of the brand names mentioned. Also, I'm pretty sure the Stop Bullying Now Foundation is real, but I don't have any rights over that either. I'll change the name if I can think of something else.

* * *

_A rustle of papers, followed by the groan of a chair as someone sits down_

"Ah, hello?"

_Loud thunks as someone taps the microphone twice_

"Oh, it's working. I suppose I'll start now then. Um, hello, my name is Arthur Kirkland. I am a senior at Cleveland High school. Age 18. This is going to be the first time I've ever spoken about my experiences with bullying in the American school system, at least in public. Is it possible for my name to be changed when the recording is played over the intercom? I'd rather not have this affect my college applications. Uh… I'll start over then.

_Sharp inhale of breath_

"My name is Arthur Kirkland. Age 18. I'm a senior at Cleveland High school. Graduated third in my class of two hundred. I was on the school's soccer team and helped lead my team to victory at the citywide championship. Next week, the team is competing at the statewide level. I won second place at science fair this year, and I graduated third in my class of two hundred. I was one of the most popular kids in my grade. And I was a bully.

_Pause then a sigh_

"I suppose it all started when I was six and just moved to the States from Great Britain. I was an awkward tyke, always about two inches shorter than the rest of the boys. My parents had just divorced, my father staying in London with my four older brothers and my mother retaining custody of me. The two of us moved to the United States because my mother wanted to experience a change of scenery as well as get away from my father. She found a job teaching in the city I now live in."

"At any rate, I entered my first American public elementary school then. Everything went well for a few weeks even though I was the new kid with the funny accent. I was friendly with most of the other children; they asked questions about Britain, but there was no teasing, at least not yet. At lunchtime, we sat in number order at the lunch table, so there wasn't any strife there. The first signs of a problem were during recess. During recess, the third, fourth, and fifth grade boys would run off and play sports on the field while the little kids were relegated to the playground. It wasn't a bad trade, but the younger boys envied the older boys and wanted to play football and soccer, too. So until we were old enough to take over the field, everyone stuck to the playground and played tag. The girls would tire of tag after some time and go play House instead. I was always roped into their games, not always unwillingly. Like I said earlier, I was a short little boy with a wild imagination and manners passed on to me by my mother, and I liked helping my mother with sewing and cooking at home. House to me, was just another extension of my imagination. Whenever I played House with the other kids, I was always the father. We would sweep out the woodchips from under the playground, and I would proudly go out of the 'house' to go to work. The other girl I played mostly with, Anri, was the mother, and any other kids who played were the baby. Most of the time, the two of us went on adventures outside of the 'house' and played make-believe, usually with fantastical stories about fairies that I came up with. Anri would always insist on her being the princess, and I was her 'Prince Charming," a role with which I fell into with surprising ease. I got into the habit of being polite to girls after that, a characteristic with which my mother was very pleased.

"That year was first grade. Then came second grade, and a new boy named Francis showed up from Louisiana. He was charismatic and cool, full of stories from his adventures killing gators and vanquishing evil voodoo queens, with long curly blond hair. He had an uncanny resemblance to a popular child star at the time, and sometimes he'd even whisper to his friends that he had to move so that the press wouldn't follow him around all the time. No wonder he instantly became the most popular kid in class. Even the teacher liked him and always let him get away with almost anything.

"It was at recess one day, when Anri and I were pretending to cook supper for the 'baby,' that Francis turned his sights to me. He called me out from under the playground and called me 'gay' for playing House. It was one of his selling points, I suppose, that he knew all these slurs and insults. At the time, I didn't know what the words meant, but I knew it wasn't good. I don't think anyone else really knew what 'gay' meant, not even Francis, although I had heard my father mutter it when I showed him a painting that I had made in art class of a fairy. I had stood up and yelled back at him, 'I'm not gay! You're gay!' The playground was silent, every second grader watching Francis and me. A group of older boys, fifth-graders and bored of playing football, had been loitering around the edges of the playground and overheard our exchange. They walked up, all tall and oozing dominance over us little kids, and laughed at us. 'It's a mini faggot,' one said, pointing at me, and the other fifth grade boys started laughing and repeated what he had said.

"I was seven at the time and still cried easily. I burst into tears at being called what I thought meant a little cigarette and screamed words that I heard my father yelling to my mother before they divorced. The older boys looked extremely affronted and stopped calling me 'faggot.' I took it as a sign that I was doing the right thing. Then, one of them punched me right in the stomach, stopping my tirade against them. I fell down hard onto the woodchips. They took that as an excuse to continue and started kicking me. Eventually, the teachers came over and broke up the fight. I looked like a mess then, wild hair, wide, red-rimmed eyes, and a hoarse voice from yelling so much. I was given out-of-school suspension for three days, I believe for instigating the fight. Francis got off with a minor infraction warning. The fifth-grade boys were on the football team, so they got out-of-school suspension for a week and a conference with the principal. Probably thought of the suspension as a vacation.

_Bitter chuckle before a deep breath_

"That was the beginning of my experience with bullying. I soon turned into a bully myself to avoid being teased, but that was later, in fourth grade. The next time I went to school, I was still nursing a black eye, and I was anxious about having to face my classmates. I saw Francis again in class, and he had smiled when he saw me. He had come straight up to me at recess and started taunting me about being a crybaby. I punched him. I was still angry over my suspension and the grounding that Mum had given me, and I blamed Francis for the entire mess. I wasn't very strong at all, so it had left him more irritated than hurt. He looked around and saw his followers watching wordlessly, their eyes just waiting for him to reassert his dominance. He pushed me back into the playground and kicked me for a while before losing interest and leaving. The entire fight lasted maybe two minutes, maybe even less. The teachers were occupied with talking to a student on the other side of the playground, so they never noticed. I was too afraid to tell the teacher because I didn't want to get in trouble again. The next day was similar, and the day after that. He'd taunt me, and I'd throw the first punch before getting beaten up. It got worse when Francis started passing notes around the classroom that I was gay and a crybaby, and no one should play with me anymore. I got back at him with a note that I signed 'Francis Bonnefoy' about how much he wanted to touch the teacher's bum. I got the idea from a book I had read, where the protagonist had exacted revenge on his bully by planting notes like that. The teacher of course knew it was me, for I had the neatest handwriting in the grade, and who else would say 'bum' but the little British boy? I was given in-school suspension for a day for that. Just my luck, the older boys from the playground were there. Whenever the counselor wasn't looking, they would pelt me with bits of wadded up paper and whisper "fag" whenever she went out to go photocopy some papers. I was made to clean up the mess they made afterwards. Unfortunately, Francis had done his job well, and he and the other children came up with a new game in which I was infected with Arthur germs. As soon as anyone had any physical contact with me, they were infected and were avoided like the plague as well.

"Recess soon became no fun for me after that. The other children shunned me and wouldn't let me play tag with them. Whenever Anri forgot that I had Arthur germs, I found that she wasn't as interested in playing House then and only wanted to play 'Beauty Parlor,' a game I wasn't so keen on playing. I was bored one day, so finally I relented, and Anri and a group of other girls joined together into a little grassy patch under a few trees to play. Barely even five minutes had passed before I wanted out. Just then, a girl named Eliza wandered along to see what we were doing. At the time, I wondered if she was really a girl since she only wore shorts and had her hair cut short like a boy's. Eliza had never shown interest in any 'girly' things like makeup, and at the Christmas gift exchange, she had swapped her Bratz doll for a Hot Wheels car and a box of Nerds. She could outrun anyone in the grade and was probably the most popular girl, at least among the boys. So when she found that I was playing 'Beauty Parlor' with the other girls, she told everyone else. Francis called me a sissy and a girl, but this time other kids joined in my torment. During class, balled-up notes would hit my head, and I would read the shaky handwriting, 'No on lieks yuo.' I endured for the remainder of second grade, and then third grade came.

"Third grade was the year that the younger boys were finally able to join the older boys in their games on the field. I had come back from a summer in England, visiting my father and three older brothers, and found that while everyone had forgotten about shunning me, I still wasn't welcome in any of the social circles. While I wasn't interested in playing American football, I remember being extremely keen on playing soccer. I suppose I still called soccer 'football' back then, and I was teased for that somewhat. I enjoyed playing soccer in P.E., and sometimes the teachers would let us borrow the soccer ball for impromptu games on the field. I always wanted to play soccer, but Francis would say that if I was in the game, then he wouldn't play. I found my escape in playing with a new boy, Gilbert. He was albino and German, and he would always brag that his grandparents were from Prussia. I said that he was a liar because Prussia wasn't on the big world map on the classroom wall, but he insisted that the map was wrong. He liked football better than soccer, but you can't play football with only two kids; so we played soccer. We'd kick around a brightly colored rubber ball because the other kids had the real soccer balls. It wasn't long before Francis invited Gilbert to his back-to-school party, an initiation ceremony of sorts and a testing ground. Apparently Gilbert passed with flying colors; I heard something about an amazing paintball fight and pushing girls into a swimming pool. I was left alone during recess. I rejoined Anri and her group of friends, Elise and Mei. They were friendly enough, but they were more interested in making daisy chains and giggling over how dreamy the boy of the day's, usually Francis, hair was. Sometimes they would play four-square with me. I was terrible at four-square, and I could feel the taunts behind my back whenever I played the 'girly' game from across the field where all the cool kids played.

"After a while, I became more withdrawn at school and stopped playing with Anri, Elise, and Mei. At home, Mum had taken up another job teaching at a local community college as well, so her working hours were strange. She had a neighborhood boy, Romulus, act as a 'baby-sitter' of sorts to me whenever she was out, but he usually sat on the living room couch and watched television shows about gladiators and wrestlers. Sometimes he talked to me, but it was mostly to tell me to fetch him some more cola from the fridge. I mostly stayed on the family computer, playing online games, and lusting desperately after a fancy cell phone like Francis and Gilbert had. During recess, I got permission from the teacher to go to the library instead, where I'd read stories where the protagonist always won. I dreamed of magic and foreign lands where I could play soccer all day, and everyone would cheer when I made a goal. After returning from recess to class, I went back to facing my tormentors. Francis and Gilbert amused themselves for a while by stealing my pencils and throwing eraser crumbs at me in class. I suspect that had I ignored their antics, they would have grown bored soon enough, but I had a terrible temper that went off at the slightest provocation. Double that with my diminutive size, for I was the shortest child in the grade, including both girls and boys; and you get a rather comical sight: a little boy fighting off tears and trying to act tough.

"I credit third grade for the year that I noticed the other 'outcast' of sorts in the class. He always sat in the front, like me, but I had never paid him any notice at all. I didn't even really know his name at the time, but I knew he was a chubby short kid who was instantly labeled 'dork' by Francis and the rest of the grade. He had the best grades in the class and read under the desk while the teacher was teaching. During science and math, he would disappear to another classroom for his 'Gifted' classes. I wanted to be called 'gifted' by my mum, too, so I started reading in class. The teacher noticed me of course, and not him, and chewed me out for disrespect. After giving me a minor infraction report for my mother to sign, the teacher also included another sheet with information about the accelerated learning program. I remember coming home proudly, having looked at the papers beforehand, and showing my mother the form to fill out when she got back at eight from her job. We went to a restaurant for dinner that night, Indian food, and she wasn't even angry that I had gotten in trouble again.

"The next year, I entered the Talented Academically Group. It was an accelerated learning program that let students take special math and science classes instead of the normal classes, colloquially known as TAG by everyone in the school, and I loved it. I learned that the boy in my class who was also in TAG was named Timo, was Finnish, and wanted to become my friend. He introduced me to the other TAGs who had been in the program since kindergarten: Eduard, a fifth grader, computer whiz, and Timo's best friend; Kiku, a Japanese boy in first grade who refused to talk; and Matilda, a shy girl in third grade with the biggest glasses I had ever seen. I immediately dismissed Timo, Eduard, and Matilda as geeks, dorks, and nerds and Kiku as a weirdo to be avoided. There was a new boy in the TAG program was named Antonio and had just moved from Spain. The school was in a big city, so a lot of immigrant kids went to the school I guess. His parents were real estate agents, and he introduced himself at the front of the TAG classroom as the future big football star. He called soccer 'football' at the time, and I remember being confused on why he never got teased for that, like I did. I had gone up to him, full of bravado and self-confidence, and said that I wanted to be a famous _soccer_ star, too. He had laughed and challenged me to a short soccer game, where he beat me.

Shortly after Antonio and I became friends, Elise was kidnapped while walking home from school alone. The area was searched and every possible witness questioned, but no trace of her was ever found. This understandably put every adult on edge, and my mother finally gave me a cell phone 'for emergencies only.' I proudly showed it off at school to Antonio, who smiled and congratulated me before revealing that he had a smartphone ten times more expensive than mine. He then let it slip that both Gilbert and Francis had smartphones, too, and thoroughly crushed my excitement. I forgave him for that, since he convinced Francis to let me play soccer. Antonio was the best soccer player in fourth grade, and everyone wanted him to be on their team. He refused to play on Francis's team unless I was included in the game, too. Even though I usually played against him, I had fun. I still lost every game though because I swear my team was composed of the worst soccer players in the history of soccer. The friendship lasted for maybe a month before Francis sent a back-to-school party invitation to Antonio, and my new friend joined Francis's collection of followers. This time, I heard rumors of prank calls and a near run-in with a police officer. Unfortunately, unlike my last friendship with Gilbert, who I had primarily used as a soccer buddy, I had confided in Antonio that I wanted to be a fairy expert and go on expeditions documenting the fae if the sports career didn't work out. Of course, Antonio told Francis, and the whole grade learned of my secret belief in magical beings, fed by an indulgent mother who still tucked me into bed and read me bedtime stories whenever she could and an overactive imagination coupled with unlimited access to the fantasy section of the library.

"Needless to say, I was ostracized. The shunning game was reinstated, and someone started stealing my bag lunches from my locker while I was at TAG. Since it was elementary school, the lockers were inside the classroom and didn't have locks, so it was an extraordinarily easy task to steal my lunch. I told the teacher about my stolen lunches, and he essentially did nothing. I think he told me to stop losing my lunches and blaming others. I switched to eating school lunches, horrid as they were, and told my mother that I hated her cooking. I lied and said I wanted to eat cafeteria food. She grounded me and lectured me about back talking, but she gave me lunch money. I didn't have a Facebook yet, but most of my classmates did, despite us being quite a few years below the age limit. I overheard Anri and Mei whispering that Francis had created a 'Arthur Kirkland is a dork' group and hate pages and got more than half of the grade to join. Kids I didn't even know from other grades joined as well and posted messages about how I should 'do the world a favor and jump into a lake because God hates gays.' Notes were passed around in class on a regular basis, and one note I intercepted listed reasons why I was more flamingly gay than a rainbow. Apparently I was gay because I talked funny, tried to do well in class, and was skinny and ugly. I was a scrawny kid, no matter how many times I tried to toughen up. I even begged my mum for a bench press set for Christmas, but she had laughed and asked why a nine year-old boy needed muscles. I angrily went to my room and lifted my textbooks for an hour after that. One night, I stared at my reflection in the bathroom and tried to pluck out my admittedly abnormally sized eyebrows with Mum's tweezers. I lied to her when she came to tuck me into bed and said that the irritated skin around my eyebrows were a result of me accidentally falling down during recess.

_A sigh_

"TAG wasn't fun anymore since Antonio was there, and he acted like he was still my friend whenever the TAG teacher was paying attention. As soon as her back was turned, he would grab my pencil case and pelt me with bits of my own eraser. Timo and Matilda remained friendly to me, however; and Eduard offered to remove the hate pages on Facebook for me, I suppose, by hacking into the site. Kiku gave me a paper crane, which was nice of him, I guess. I think Francis and his group had picked on them all at some point or another, but at that moment, I had felt alone and angry. I rejected their gestures and stewed in the back of the classroom. I wanted very desperately to be accepted by my fellow classmates, but I gave up on talking to my fellow classmates for fear that they'd just ignore me. Mum heard me crying myself to sleep one night, and I told her that I was being bullied at school. She told me that a gentleman doesn't lose sight of his morals and that I should just ignore them. I honestly tried to not let Antonio's fake smiles and Francis's whispered taunts bother me, but whenever the other kids picked me last for games and looked at me before giggling and whispering to each other, Mum's words of 'keep calm and carry on' vanished from my mind as I imagined the worst. She called Francis's father, who's a lawyer once, but he scoffed at the very idea that his son was a bully. I was too sensitive, he said, and Francis was just playing. The calls my mother made to the school ended similarly. No, ma'am, the teachers always stopped every instance of bullying, and boys would be boys. I lied to my mother, saying that Francis stopped after a week or so because even I could see as a nine year-old that adults could do nothing for me.

"One day, my teacher lectured the entire class that we should play nicer with each other, prompted, I believe, by the school administrators who were called by my mother. He left the topic alone after that, and my classmates chorused their understanding while trying to cross their fingers and toes to protect them from 'Arthur germs.' I was getting tired of the entire situation, so when the TAG teacher finally noticed the pile of eraser crumbs slowly growing underneath my desk and asked me if I was alright after class, I snapped at her and told her to, 'Shut the hell up. You don't know anything.' She gave me this sad look, like she was disappointed in me, and wrote up a minor infraction report on me. I took the report, shoved it into my backpack, and realized that I felt ashamed, yes, but also a teensy bit good. It felt good to not always be cowed by authority. Francis and his group might as well have as much power as the incompetent teachers. I then returned to class to line up for lunch. Francis was always first in the lunch line, a law that stretched back from the very beginning of first grade, and decided that today, I was going to be first. I stepped in front of him, feeling the stares of everyone in the class. Francis elbowed me in the back a few times before I turned around and said loudly, 'Stop touching me. What's your problem?'

"He seemed kind of shocked, like he was just expecting me to meekly walk to take my place in the very back of the line. I took it as a sign to continue. 'What, got some Arthur germs now?' I could see the rest of the line shrinking away from Francis and crossing their fingers as soon as I mentioned my affliction. 'Better pass it on quick, Francis.' The teacher shushed us at that moment, and we marched out of the classroom to the cafeteria. I realized, thinking from my place in the front of the line, that I could beat Francis at his game. I was nine years old. I didn't realize how dangerous of a 'game' I was playing and exactly how quickly I could lose my humanity. Looking back, I realize that my own actions were much more vindictive than what Francis and his group had done to me, and I sincerely apologize for the anguish that I have caused…

_Clears throat_

"Ah, do you mind if I take a break now? I'm rather thirsty."

_Fumbling with the recording equipment before microphone is turned off_  
_End Part I_

* * *

Quick Explanation: So Arthur's in his senior year of high school. He was a bully for part of elementary school, middle school, and most of high school. He stopped for reasons that won't be disclosed right now, but he's right now recording his story for a foundation that I made up but is probably real to help people understand why he turned to bullying after being bullied as a kid in elementary school.

Character Names: Anri is Belgium, Eliza is Hungary (short for Elizaveta), Elise is Liechtenstein, Timo is Finland, Mei is Taiwan, Matilda is fem!Canada. She wears bottle-cap glasses until seventh grade (because I say so muahaha), Francis is France, Arthur is England (I hope you knew that at least), Gilbert is Prussia, Antonio is Spain, Eduard is Estonia, Kiku is Japan, random unnamed teachers are unnamed teachers

Sorry for the weird "" '' I kept forgetting that this is an entire verbal transcript, so I used the wrong punctuation sometimes.

I read a book called "The Bully Society" which focused a lot on bullying among boys. Most of my writing comes from that and my own experiences with bullying.

At any rate, this is a part of my AU that I've been thinking about for a while. Since the AU focuses a lot on Toris (Lithuania), Natalya (Belarus), Feliks (Poland), and Eliza (Hungary), I wanted to write something for some of the other characters' backstories. (Btw, Ivan is not evil in my AU! /cheers) I don't really know why I picked Arthur. I really don't. He has the most in-depth backstory, and he is just a minor character… /sob Maybe I'll change his role in the main story. He's not even my favorite character. I just thought of the British Empire and how Great Britain wasn't exactly a great country to the world, and poof, he's a bully. Then I thought about why would he become a bully, etc. Also don't hate Francis. Okay, hate him, but hate everyone equally. I have this weird love for grey-on-grey morality stories, so there isn't a clear cut 'this person is evil.'

I'm sorry for Spain fans out there. I love Spain, I really do. He's an adorable character, and I felt terrible for making him a bully, too. He's kind of on a different level than Francis and Gilbert are, I guess. He's more of a manipulative, backstabbing type bully, whereas Gilbert's more of the physical abuse and brash type. Francis does both, I guess. He's the charismatic one who comes up with the best ideas though, and he's a good liar.

I really don't know what time period it is, considering that Facebook only became popular maybe five or six years ago. Just pretend it all works out.  
Comments? Suggestions? Hate it? Love it? Feel free to review even as a guest.


	2. PART II

Warnings: Islam bashing, more homophobia, also fat-bashing  
Disclaimer: I don't condone any of the actions taken in this story. I don't own Hetalia either.

_Impatient drumming of fingers on desk as the recorder is turned on again_

"Where was I? Oh, yes, right. I was a fourth grader and had decided that I had cowered in front of Francis enough. During lunch, we sat in our assigned seats, and thankfully 'Bonnefoy' is half the alphabet away from 'Kirkland.' We sat at the ends of the long lunch table, but Francis was flanked on his right by Gilbert and on his left by Antonio, whereas Eliza and Heracles sat next to me. I poked around at the greasy fried chicken with my fork, while watching Eliza eat her ham-and-cheese sandwich out of the corner of my eye. At the time, I had something of a little-boy crush on her, but half of the boys in the grade did, really. She was tough, hated pink, and loved catching bugs. Eliza could throw a baseball just as well as any boy, except she was a girl. The boys on television always had girlfriends, but their girlfriends were boring and only cared about their appearances. Eliza was a girl, but she wasn't icky or boring, like the other girls in the grade. She didn't even look like them though. Her hair was always messy and tangled, and she never wore skirts. She was good at sports, too, and I liked her because she didn't completely ignore me.

"'Eliza,' I said. She looked up from her sandwich and crossed her fingers before responding suspiciously, 'yeah?' 'Ya gonna play soccer at recess?' I asked, drawling like Francis did and hoping that it had the same effect for me as it did for him on girls. 'Uh huh.' 'I'll give you a butterfly net tomorrow if you play on my team.' Eliza stopped mid-chew and looked at me. 'Sure it ain't for catching fairies?' I scoffed. 'You believe in fairies? Those are only for _girls,'_ I said. Being called a girl was about the worst insult you could say to Eliza at the time, and 'girl' was right behind 'gay' in the ranking of worst insults for me. Eliza immediately frowned at me. 'I'm not a girl. Take that back now.' 'Only if you play on my team during recess.' 'Hmph, fine,' Eliza said before stealing my bread roll.

"At recess, Eliza was true to her word. When Francis said that he wouldn't play with losers, I held up two crossed fingers, reminding everyone who still had the Arthur germs. Eliza then butted in and told everyone to shut up and just play. She was usually a team captain, and this game was no exception. She chose me first. I think I instantly became the envy of every boy in the class. Antonio, the other team captain, chose Gilbert. I called out the next person to be on the team. 'Francis.' He glared at me, but you couldn't do callbacks. It was the first time that Francis played on a team without Gilbert and Antonio since Eliza, though spunky, wasn't stupid. Our team won. In the afternoon classes, I didn't get hit with eraser bits. It was a nice feeling, not having to shake out trash from my hair.

"I gave Eliza her butterfly net, and next recess, she picked me first again. When Francis protested, she told him to 'shut up' and 'just who was the team captain here?' He liked her, so he complied. Antonio picked Gilbert, and Francis was on our team again. We won that game, too. I worked out an exchange with Eliza. I gave her my chicken nuggets and tater tots at lunch, and she picked me for games during recess. The teasing died down since it was impossible for gays to be athletic, but the Arthur germs were still virulent. Instead of being actively tormented, most of my classmates just avoided me, so they wouldn't get infected. It was only during recess in which I was acknowledged, and Arthur germs were put aside for the sake of sportsmanship. Winning was more important than falling deathly ill, after all, because kids like us didn't die. Most of the other children simply accepted that I was still a nerd because I was a TAG, but I was the nerd that was on Eliza's team. Francis, on the other hand, didn't know about the deal between Eliza and me and assumed that I was after Eliza's affections, too. He told Gilbert, and we all scuffled over Eliza's love during recess whenever Eliza wasn't looking. Antonio stayed out of it, saying that he liked Anri, not Eliza. Smart boy.

"The three of us came to an agreement over Eliza at recess. The day before, I was pushing around the mushy peas on the lunch tray at lunchtime. I looked up to see a flying glob of mashed potatoes sent flying my way, courtesy of Gilbert. It landed straight onto my brand-new jacket, and I knew that unless I wanted to go back to being the wimp who wasn't allowed to play with the others during recess, I had to retaliate. I launched my serving of artificially flavored jelly at the three, aiming for Gilbert, but hitting Anri instead, right smack into her face. She sat right across from Antonio, and she was the first girl to start wearing make-up. The jelly slid down her face, smearing her make-up. She had been talking to Mei and not paying attention, so she immediately turned on Antonio and screeched bloody murder at him. Antonio shot me a dirty look and apologized uselessly to his crush. She threw what was left of her sandwich at Antonio, and chaos erupted at the fourth-grade lunch table. I grabbed a handful of Heracles' grapes and lobbed them at the other end of the table. Someone stole some of Antonio's tomatoes and threw them everywhere. I threw the rest of my peas at Gilbert, though most of them landed on Francis's clothes. He stood up and threw his half-full Capri Sun juice at my end of the table, and it hit Eliza. She grabbed it and squirted out the juice over the entire table, who dutifully shrieked and ducked for cover. The lunch monitor hurried over to halt the flying food. She hadn't seen the beginnings of the food fight, so she asked who started it. Mei, who had never really liked me that much, pointed accusingly at me and denounced me coldly, 'Arthur.' I protested my innocence and blamed Gilbert. He said that Francis told him to do it. Francis denied it and said that I had thrown peas at him. Anri pouted and said Antonio had thrown Jell-O at her. The lunch monitor decided to send the entire grade back to class, and the teacher made us sit quietly at our desks for recess while she called our parents.

"The next day, at recess, Eliza had convinced some of the boys to help her catch grasshoppers. With half of the players missing, Antonio, Francis, Gilbert, and I couldn't play soccer or football. In addition, Eliza told us that she hated us for getting her in trouble, and so we were all on equal footing again, at least in her eyes. Gilbert wanted to beat me up for being a snitch and not taking all the blame, but Francis decided instead that since I wasn't gay, I could be one of his friends. He offered a truce, saying that 'it won't do to have Eliza think poorly of us all.' We didn't shake on it because I could still pass on Arthur germs, but nevertheless, I became one of Francis's followers. He told everyone that I wasn't gay, I was a normal boy, and I was going to be one of Francis's friends. Since Francis said so, I became normal. Arthur germs even became 'the dork touch,' and Timo was the one to be avoided. I played along, crossing my fingers whenever I saw him in TAG and laughing about his weight with Antonio whenever the TAG teacher stepped out to copy some papers. Antonio showed me how easy it was to steal Timo's erasers and create catapults out of paperclips and spoons. We created a game to see how many times we could hit Timo with eraser crumbs and wads of paper without the teacher noticing. I remember I thought Timo was annoying. I guess you could call him the first person I ever bullied. He was honest and nice and chubby, and he disgusted me. Whenever he walked by, I mimed puking. Antonio gave me ten points for coming up with that trick. I felt proud whenever I hurt Timo's feelings. He reminded my younger self too much of what I had been, and I wanted to push away any reminders that I had been a gay freak.

_A pause then the sound of throat-clearing_

"Francis wasn't satisfied with just Timo, though. Timo was easily hurt, and really, one person alone could have bullied him. No, Francis had grander dreams than bullying overweight nerds. Francis's parents were good, law-abiding Christians, and if you wanted to be his friend, you had to be one, too. He went to a beautiful church thirty minutes outside of the city every Sunday, where he learned things that the rest of us weren't important enough to learn in our own churches. He announced one day during recess that the preacher said that all non-believers would go to hell, and we, ever his loyal group of followers, all nodded our heads obediently. Francis said that Sadiq was a dirty Muslim and didn't believe in God. He said that Muslims killed people every day, especially Christians. We all nodded our heads and agreed that yes, we could remember that being said in our church, too. Sadiq was a third grader who was good at art and math. He was sworn enemies with Heracles, the boy who sat next to me at lunch, and it was rumored that Sadiq had an older brother who was in a street gang. He was probably the only third grader either brave or stupid enough to stand up to Francis and his group on a regular basis. I suppose Francis decided that it was time to put down the upstart little third grader.

"Francis was the one who came up with the plan. He was always the one who did. I was going to distract Sadiq on day during recess since I was the newest and needed to prove myself, while the other boys sneaked up on him to teach him a lesson. I wasn't told exactly what they were going to do, but I agreed, knowing that Francis could take away all of my new-found happiness if I said no. The next day, we executed the plan. We told Eliza that we couldn't play today because we were going to become real men by the end of that day. We were going to defend all the Christians that Sadiq and his older brother, who was a gangster, no doubt killed. That day, we were going to be heroes.

"Of course, it didn't go out well. There was only one permitted thinking head among ten to maybe fifteen boys, Francis. I walked up to Sadiq, who was climbing on the jungle gym. The other boys hung around, edging closer and closer but not wanting to be obvious that they were surrounding Sadiq. I was full of bravado and sure of myself. I started talking to him. 'Hey, you're Sadiq, right?' He looked at me strangely. 'What if I am? Aren't you the gay fairy boy? Go back to your leader; sheep aren't scary when they're alone.' My previous confidence evaporated on the spot, and all I could think about was getting back at the third grader who dared insult me. 'No, I'm not! At least I'm not Mudslime.' He frowned. 'I've been called worse, faggot. You wouldn't come up with a name like that on your own though. Who put you up to this—' he said, turning around and seeing that Gilbert and Antonio had snuck up behind him and were sitting casually on top of the jungle gym. He must have been startled, I think anyone would have been, and he let go of the bars. He was still sitting on the jungle gym and would have been alright if Gilbert hadn't started pushing him. Of course, Sadiq latched his fingers tight around the jungle gym bars again, so he wouldn't fall off. Looking back, I realize that Gilbert wasn't really trying to push Sadiq off onto the woodchips, and he was really trying to test my loyalty. He pushed just enough for me to realize what 'teaching the kid a lesson' entailed. Antonio called for me to join. I stayed rooted to the spot. Gilbert noticed that I wasn't helping and yelled, 'Well, you gay or not? I'll tell Francis that you're a midget and a little coward.' That decided it for me. I climbed up onto the jungle gym and without thinking, pulled Sadiq off. We both fell off and onto the woodchips about four or five feet below. Although I did fracture my right wrist, Sadiq had it worse. On the way down, he hit his head on the metal bars and broke his leg. We were both crying, I think, and Antonio and Gilbert were calling for help. The teachers rushed over, and someone called for an ambulance to come and take us to the hospital.

"Of course, the school tried to investigate what happened. The teachers who claimed to have been watching said that it had just been horseplay that had gotten out of hand. No one wanted to point fingers and cause a messy lawsuit. Gilbert, Antonio, and I all agreed that it was an accident, and I had accidentally slipped, bringing Sadiq down, too. The adults around us accepted our excuse mostly because, I suspect, they didn't want to believe that children could be cruel to each other. Sadiq insisted that the 'accident' had been intentional and a malicious attack on him because of his religion. Somebody asked us if we didn't like Muslims, and we all shook our heads no. We were good Christian boys, accepting of everyone. We didn't bully other children. Sadiq was brushed off as wanting someone to blame and not understanding that it was just an accident. We were given a lecture on playing nice before getting off scotch-free. Besides, someone reasoned, if I really wanted to hurt Sadiq, I wouldn't have gotten hurt as well. I suppose it was a strange double-standard on the adults' part. Children were too innocent to be bullies, and if they were, they had to be smart and clever bullies who wouldn't make any mistakes.

"Antonio and Gilbert thought it was all great fun, of course, and they reported to Francis as operation: success. They put the entire incident in terms of 'I had tangled with terrorists and survived.' The dull green cast on my wrist was my battle-scar, and I was the savior of the day. Francis, who, by coincidence, happened to have gotten a fever that fateful day, explained the entire situation to the fourth grade: Sadiq was a filthy non-Christian jerk who got what was coming to him. Eliza smiled at me for doing the right thing and standing up to the big bully, Sadiq. As I walked through the hallways, I was congratulated, and girls begged if they could please sign my cast. I got the evil eye from Sadiq and a few of his friends, but I didn't care. I was popular that week, and I loved it. I think it was Timo who told the teacher what Francis said, that I had pulled Sadiq off the jungle gym purposefully. When the teacher confronted me, I played dumb and said that I hadn't really. It was all an accident, and Francis just likes to gossip, you know? The teacher bought it and left me alone after that. I had learned how easy it was to lie to adults since they never wanted to believe the worst. After school, I cornered Timo and punched in right in the gut. I called him a fatty and to keep his mouth shut. Afterwards, I rode the bus home, feeling like I was on top of the world.

"Of course, the popularity died down after a little while, but my younger self couldn't forget the satisfaction I got from exercising power over my classmates. It was soon spring, time for fourth-graders to practice football for the next season. The school only had a fifth grade football team, and the majority of the fourth grade boys lusted after having a jersey and helmet of their own. I wasn't so much interested in the sport as I was the prestige that came with it. I noticed how the teachers treated the football players a little differently than the normal kids, and I wanted that kind of special treatment, too. So I brought home the sign-up sheet to my Mum, who dutifully signed it, and I stayed after school one day to try out for the team. Although I didn't have much muscle on me, no one really did, and I was good at running. The coach delayed his decision at first because I was still wearing a cast, so Mum called him and explained to him that it would be completely healed by next fall. I made the team and started practicing after school. Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert, of course, were on the football team. Some other boys who were in Francis's group, Magnus and Kyle, were also on the team. Nikolei and Carlos also were on the team, but they weren't cool enough to be in Francis's group, like we were. Eliza showed up for the tryouts, too, and refused to be, in her own words, a 'stupid, dopey cheerleader.' The coach refused her outright, and it took the five of us, Francis, me, Gilbert, Magnus, and Kyle, the ones who liked her, to convince the coach that if she didn't play, we wouldn't either. The coach shook his head, called us a bunch of sissies, and said that Eliza could be the water girl. Our first victory was when Eliza grinned at us when we all got our football uniforms.

"The coach made me sit out for most of the practices because of my wrist. I sat on the bench with a huge jug of water and Eliza, who had found that being a water girl wasn't the same as actually being on the team. We both complained together and vowed to practice together over the summer so that when we came back as fifth graders, we would be invincible and better than the rest of the football team. She gave me her number, and I learned just how quickly I could reach my text limit. I begged Mum to switch to an unlimited plan, but she said that phones were for emergencies only before checking who exactly I had been texting. When she saw the name, she sighed and said something about her little boy growing up before reminding me to remember that I was a gentleman.

_Pause, then an embarrassed-sounding cough_

"Of course, things don't go your way forever. Francis pulled me aside one day during recess and told me that he wasn't going to accept any TAGS in his group anymore. He said Antonio was going to get out of the program, and I should, too. That night over dinner, I told my mum that I hated TAG, and she was mean for making me go to TAG classes. Puzzled at my sudden change of heart because I really wanted to join in third grade, Mum cajoled out of me the real reason, that Antonio was dropping out of TAG, too, and Francis wanted me to do the same. Mum told me that I should stand up for myself and decide things on my own. I told her that I hated her, and she wasn't allowed to tuck me into bed anymore. She grounded me but took me out of the TAG program.

"Summer vacation came and went. I didn't go to England over the summer, having convinced my mother that I didn't want to go. My father said it didn't matter to him really, but Mum made me write a letter to my older brothers explaining and apologizing for why I wasn't visiting them that summer. I received a postcard from them back saying 'Good riddance.' My cast was taken off at the beginning of summer, and I was told to be careful. I immediately called Eliza as soon as I got home and arranged an impromptu soccer game to celebrate. During the summer, I met up with Eliza and Francis's group at a local park to practice football. We were going to be the very best. The coach, who was also Carlos' father, came to pick up Carlos one day a little earlier than usual and therefore interrupted one of our games. He laughed when he saw Eliza tackle Magnus to the ground before emerging from the heap of kids with the ball and said that maybe water girls could be football players, too.

"Fifth grade was the year that all elementary school kids aspired to get to. Fifth graders were cool, tall, and powerful. They had priority in the lunch lines and got the brand new laptops and textbooks. The teacher was an old lady who might have had hearing problems. She let most of our bullying slide, so long as we weren't harming any of the younger grade-schoolers. Anyone in the fifth grade was fair game, and Francis wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. The first couple months of school was centered around football. Since we were playing well, the teacher was more lenient about our grades. After all, if we won, we'd get a lot of money for our school. With money at stake, who cared about fudging a few points here and there?

"Football practice was on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school, as well as Saturday mornings. Mum said that she was too busy to pick me up on most of those days, so Romulus, the neighbor's teenaged son, picked me up in his beat up jalopy. I climbed into the backseat, sweaty, dirty, and proud. I asked him constantly if I could sit in the front seat, too. On the car ride back, he'd comment that I'd be popular with the girls if I stayed on the football team in middle school and high school. I watched television shows where guys had pretty girlfriends, and I noticed that Eliza was a girl, too, but she wasn't like the girls on television. I asked Romulus about Eliza, and he told me to stay away from Eliza because she might be a lesbie. 'Girls don't play football,' he said. 'You should go for the pretty ones instead because they're the easy se—I mean, they'll make you happiest.' I didn't understand what he meant, so I called him stupid. Eliza was pretty and smart and fun, and I liked her.

"Francis asked me for Eliza's number, which I dutifully gave him, and the next day, he and Eliza were going out. By that time, some of the boys decided that they didn't want tomboy girlfriends because it was lame if your girlfriend could out throw you in a game of baseball. They started liking Anri and Marianne, who powdered their faces every day in class and brushed their hair constantly. They giggled about silly things and talked about the best way to kiss. I listened to the kissing part secretly and wondered what it'd feel like to kiss Eliza.

"I suppose I need to explain who Marianne is now. Marianne and Anri were the popular girls. Anri's dad was a famous chef, and her mum was an accountant. Marianne's mum was a fashion designer, and her dad was a news anchor. She had entered the school in fourth grade, and sometime during the year, Marianne had replaced Mei as Anri's best friend. Now Mei just followed after them, wondering how she had fallen out of Anri's favor. Marianne and Anri didn't like Eliza. Because they didn't, the rest of the girls stayed away from Eliza, too.

"One day, Francis gave Eliza a dress from his mother's boutique, and she refused to wear it, shoving the bag back into Francis' hands. He called out to her as she stomped away, 'Well, you're a girl, aren't you? Girls wear dresses!' Anri was watching, and she gossiped about it with her friends. Eliza was excluded from the game at recess, and the girls snubbed her when she went to go talk to them instead. Francis handed her the dress after school before kissing her quickly on the cheek. He was smug as he got into his mum's convertible a few minutes later and left the school. The next day, she was wearing the dress, but she whispered to me at lunchtime that she was wearing shorts underneath. Francis took a picture of Eliza in the dress with his phone and texted it to everyone. Gilbert complained and said to let Eliza be who she wanted to, but he still saved the picture on his phone all the same. Marianne had laughed when she heard that and reached to hold Gilbert's hand.

"Gilbert said that he liked Eliza and Marianne, and he was going to get both of them because he was awesome and cooler than the rest of us. Francis told him that Eliza was his only, but Marianne was free. Antonio still pined after Anri, who said that he needed to give her lots of chocolates and flowers everyday if he wanted to be her boyfriend. I resigned myself to being Eliza-less and therefore loveless for the rest of my life, certain that Francis would never relinquish his relationship with Eliza.

"But no matter. Francis sent out invitations for the back-to-school party in the mail. Mum dropped the letter on my head at the dinner table, teasing me about my being too young to start getting bills from the bank already. I opened the letter up and begged my mum to let me go. She struck a bargain with me to do the laundry for that week, and a week later, I was dropped off at Francis' house, almost shaking with anticipation. Here was my final test, and I heard plenty of exciting stories from previous parties. His home was located in a fancy gated community with a small manmade lake a couple of blocks away from his house. There was a decently sized pool in the backyard, and his father had hired someone to barbeque the food. I recognized everyone from school. Francis had invited all of his friends and most of the pretty girls in the grade, like Anri and Marianne. I asked Francis where Eliza was. Apparently, Eliza and Gilbert had kept pushing each other into the pool last year, and both had nearly drowned. Francis' dad had forced Francis to choose one of them to invite. Marianne somehow found out and told Francis that if Eliza was invited, he shouldn't even bother inviting any other girl in the grade. After explaining his options, Francis gave me a condescending smile and handed me his old potato chip bag to throw away for him. When I returned from the trash can, he had already left to go back to the pool. I thought about what he had said and came to the same choice as Francis. Sure, Eliza was fun to play against at recess, and I thought she was kind of pretty; but Gilbert was my friend, and I wasn't going to invite a _girl_ over a boy. I had a great time at the party after that until I puked from eating too many hamburgers. Everyone shrieked and laughed at me for doing something stupid like gorging on food. I looked at my vomit and decided that I had eaten enough hamburgers for a lifetime. Francis's mum wrinkled her nose at me as she hastily handed me a stack of napkins to clean up before asking, 'Are you getting fed at home?' His mum really was a bad example for Francis to have followed.

"I returned to school that Monday, still excited from the events of the party. The bus arrived at the school earlier than usual, and I waited outside until the teachers unlocked the doors to let us in. Eliza was there, too, and she glared at me through eyes red from crying. Francis arrived at the school in his mum's red convertible, and he looked as smug as ever when she stomped over to him. 'Salut, Elizaveta,' he said smoothly. In reply, she socked him in the eye. Francis staggered back, looking like he had just been stabbed in the back. He was always something of a drama queen. A teacher showed up to break up the fight, but Eliza seemed to already be finished. The teacher was new and didn't know Francis and Eliza. Going off what she had seen, the teacher sent Eliza to the principal's office and Francis to the nurse. I didn't see Eliza in class that day because she was in in-school-suspension. She really got off lightly with five days in ISS, probably because she was a girl.

"Tuesday football practice, Eliza didn't show up. Francis, sporting a black eye and a bruised ego, smirked and said something about his dad threatening to sue the school if Eliza wasn't kicked off the team. We continued practice after his announcement, albeit a little more cautious around Francis' because of his bad mood.

"Eliza appeared next week in class, glaring murderously at Francis as she took her seat at the desk next to Antonio. Antonio waved at her and started to talk cheerfully to her before Anri cut him off. 'Don't talk to the freak girl,' Anri said. Antonio had been grinning as he talked to Eliza, but he quickly changed it to the sneer I had seen before when Anri spoke. It was the face he made when he had told the TAG teacher politely that yes, he and I were best friends while kicking me viciously in the shins under the table in fourth grade. 'Oh, is that so?' he responded while turning away from Eliza. He talked to me instead. 'Arthur, you should have stayed longer. Francis brought out the Nerf guns after you left.' I expressed interest, wondering why Francis decided to wait until after I was gone. 'Really?' 'Yeah, I won. I was the one who shot Francis right in the chest and hit all the targets. Gilbert only managed to hit two, what a loser.' I agreed and forgot to check on how my crush was feeling after being snubbed by Antonio. There were more important things to do, like brag about how if I was there, I could definitively have beaten Antonio."

_A pause before fumbling with the recorder_

"Terrible timing, I know, but I'll be taking a break now. My throat's parched…"

_End Part II_

* * *

Character Names: Sadiq is Turkey, Nikolai is nyo!Belarus, Magnus is Denmark, Carlos is Cuba. Kyle is Australia, Marianne is fem!France, Romulus is Rome  
Note: I've changed some of the character names (I looked up the official "possible names" for some of the characters) The changes are Bella is now Anri for Belgium and Lilli is now Elise for Liechtenstein. Sorry for any confusion!

Gah, I don't even like football, but a lot of American elementary schools only focus on football so… yeah. :I If I get any of the football lingo/information wrong, feel free to say so! I'm definitely no expert.

Also, I don't know if custody works that way. (I have it that Arthur goes to visit his father/brothers during the summer, and his brothers visit his mother/him during Christmas break) Is it possible for a family to kind of just miss a visit? I kind of couldn't go around the skipping-visiting-his-father issue because fourth-grade summer was important to his fifth grade year.

I seem to have underestimated my capacity to ramble /sobbu I wanted this to at least get to his middle school years. This might turn out to have five or six parts... Also, sorry if I change slight details about the story. I edit a lot...  
I've written up part of an interview with Arthur (at age 18). If you want a certain question answered, feel free to speak up!


End file.
